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Monday, May 30, 2011

This lady, this Maggie Mae, moves like she has a nerve disorder that she’s determined will not hold her back in life.

No, wait — she moves like she is being constantly bitten by tiny spiders and she’s trying to shake off the spiders.

No, wait — she moves like your mom’s friend at her thirtieth high school reunion when she mixed a white wine spritzer with her mood-stabilizer pills and ended up on the news.

No, wait — she’s actually moving like she’s literally on fire and she just never learned the stop-drop-roll procedure.

No, wait — the way she just starts herk-a-jerking out of the crowd and toward the stage makes me think she’s actually just a crazy woman in the audience who brought her own microphone, and the real Maggie Mae is standing just off stage, asking “Who’s this bitch who stole my fucking number?”

Her jerkier movements (read: all of them) remind me of those cheap, posable figures/toys that used to be prevalent at fair grounds, etc. I don't know the exact name for them, but they stand on a base that contains a button; pressing the button causes the character's limbs to contort and "dance" in all sorts of strange ways.

BTW, in a weird bit of coincidence, I've been trying to approximate these figures/toys lately when I dance (for fun and in front of my husband and friends -- not out in public). I think I nearly had it at one point, but now I can't remember what I was doing to move in that way...